If you've picked up the print section of the LA Weekly this week we're sure you've noticed a column penned by none other than the great Lisa Carver, who is a musician (Suckdog), a zine pioneer (Rollerderby), a memoirist (Drugs Are Nice), a columnist and a rad mom. She is also one of the most original writers of her generation, and a subtle observer of the joyful underbelly of the American Dream.

Her first column (of what we hope will be many) for us is about her impressions of the sounds of LA. We've long admired her writing about music on Rollerderby and her essay collection Dancing Queen and we're really happy to have her writing in the Weekly.

Here's an excerpt:

It's not just how it feels on your skin, the music. Appearance, too, is a big part of how the sound registers. There's that peculiar-to-L.A. fake realness. N.W.A were not fatherless drug dealers. (Yes, Eazy dealt ... but what middle-class teen among us didn't for a little bit?) Darby Crash was not an out-of-control spewer of ugly words. He was a sensitive and dedicated poet. The Beach Boys did not surf, most of them, yet there's more authentic "surfiness" to their music than to any band that does surf. If you live in L.A., you get lost in the portrayal. Because you devote so much time portraying the thing, there's no time left for the thing. It's a sacrifice, really. You're trading your real life for art, for explaining the thing that you're not doing.